


spinning on that dizzy edge

by dreamerfound



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 17:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20877842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerfound/pseuds/dreamerfound
Summary: After dining at the Ritz, Aziraphale isn’t ready to go back to the bookshop, so Crowley invites him back to his flat.





	spinning on that dizzy edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulJelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulJelly/gifts).

> SoulJelly - Happy Halloween! I hope you enjoy this :)

"Did you wanna head back to the bookshop, maybe have a drink?" Crowley asks. They're just leaving the Ritz and he doesn't want the day to end here. Aziraphale hesitates, running his fingers along the bottom of his waistcoat. 

"It's all there, not a bit of smoke or ash."

"Are you sure?"

"I know your bookshop, angel."

"And you're positive nothing is different?"

"Well..." He can't lie to him.

"Well, what?"

"There are a few new books that weren't there before, kids books, no big deal." Crowley pauses. "And the place looks like it's been cleaned up a bit." 

"New books?" There's panic on Aziraphale's face. He likes his shop cramped, dusty and uninviting. It discouraged customers. 

"It's fine angel, be happy the bookshop's there at all." He feels bad saying it, even worse thinking it. He's thankful the angel never had to see it all in flames. That image will likely haunt his dreams for years to come.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to face it all just yet."

"You faced Hell today, angel. Surely you can face a few changes to your bookshop."

"A few changes? You only mentioned two."

He rubs his face in exasperation. "It's been a long day, angel. Do you want to come back to my place for the night?" Crowley wants nothing more than for Aziraphale to come home with him but he doesn't expect him to actually agree.

"I think I would like that very much, thank you."

They grab a taxi to his flat. He takes a look at his Bentley and everything's how it should be. He strokes her side and smiles. She's beautiful. Perfect.

Aziraphale stands there, nervously watching him. Is he nervous about the state of his shop, or something else? They're free, at least for now. Yes, Heaven and Hell will likely come after them again at some point, but it wouldn't be for a while yet. Now that they're on their own side, what comes next? 

"Okay, you ready?" Crowley asks.

"Am I ready? You're the one taking time to fondle his car." 

Crowley raises an eyebrow. "Jealous?" He gives the car one last caress. 

The angel turns away, but not before Crowley catches a hint of pink in his cheeks.

He's not sure why he's said that. He doesn't tease the angel, not about things of this sort. Does he want him to be jealous? Is he trying to provoke him? Maybe he's more tired than he realized. They've both had a long few days. A long eleven years, trying to keep the world from ending. At least it all worked out.

They headed up to his flat. Aziraphale had come home with him the night before, but that had been different. They had been heavily occupied with trying to figure out Agnes's last prophecy then. Now he feels exposed. As if Aziraphale might see him for who he truly is just by looking over his possessions, not that he has all that many, but still. Crowley doesn't like the feeling, but he likes having the angel close by, so he deals with it. 

"I know you don't usually sleep..." Crowley's not sure what he's asking or what he's hoping for.

Aziraphale takes off his coat. "I think I would like to get a bit of shut-eye tonight." Crowley watches him take off his bowtie and waistcoat and wonders what exactly is going on here. 

"You can have the bed if you'd like, I can take the sofa." He says it because it seems like the right thing to say and because he's tired and he doesn't want to spend the night trying to tempt Aziraphale into sleeping in the bed with him.

"Don't be an idiot Crowley, we can both share the bed."

His brain short circuits and he actually blinks. This is a dream, it's the only thing that makes sense. He pinches himself, and nothing happens. Aziraphale is undressing in front of him, preparing to get into his bed. For sleep, he reminds himself. Only for sleep.

"You don't mind sharing the bed with me, do you dear?"

"Of course not, angel." Crowley steps out of the bedroom and changes into his pyjamas with a snap of his fingers before stepping back into the room a moment later. Aziraphale is in the bed, covers pulled up to his neck. Crowley considers sleeping on top of the duvet but comes to the conclusion that it would look too cowardly. He slides into the bed without looking at Aziraphale and slips off his sunglasses, placing them on the small nearby table. 

He's so tired, he's been through so much these last few days, they both have. When the bookshop burned and he'd thought Aziraphale gone -- well, he hadn't felt that hopeless since The Fall. He wants nothing more than to curl around his angel and sleep for a week, maybe more. He slips his hand under the sheets, thinking he might be brave enough to take Aziraphale's hand in his when he brushes a bare thigh. Is he naked? Aziraphale wriggles a little closer and sure enough, he does not appear to be wearing any clothing.

"Aziraphale, are you not wearing pyjamas?" 

"Was I supposed to be?" The angel sounds -- was he being cheeky? He sure sounded like he was.

It's possible there's a totally innocent explanation here. It not as if the angel took to sleeping on a regular basis. Crowley's never actually known him to sleep at all. Maybe he just doesn't know about pyjamas.

"Not if you don't want to -- it's all the same to me, angel." Crowley is trying to sound casual but is pretty sure he hasn't quite pulled it off.

"Oh, it is?" Is that disappointment in his voice, or is he imagining things? Does the angel want Crowley to want him to be naked? He turns to look at Aziraphale. There's a strange longing in his eyes, and then he's turning away. Has he hurt him? Fuck, that's the last thing he wants. 

Crowley reaches out and strokes the back of Aziraphale's neck. "Hey, angel, did you climb into my bed naked for something more than sleep?"

"Maybe." Aziraphale sounds disheartened; his voice little more than a whisper. 

Something about the tone makes Crowley ache inside. "Hey, look at me."

Aziraphale turns. There are unshed tears in his eyes and Crowley hates himself for putting them there, however unintentional it had been. He strokes the angel's cheek. 

"I don't want to wait anymore, I'm tired of not being able to have what I want."

Have what he wants? The words tug at him and hope swells in Crowley's chest. He's almost too afraid to ask, but only almost. "And what is it that you want, angel?" If his voice wobbles a bit with the question, it goes unmentioned.

"You, Crowley -- don't you know that? I want you."

Crowley wants to say something clever and cool, but he feels neither at the moment and nothing comes to mind. He moves a bit closer so that their lips just barely touch. It feels like a question and a promise.

Aziraphale crushes his mouth to his, lips parted ever so slightly. Crowley takes this as an invitation to slither his tongue inside and feels himself truly relax for the first time in weeks. Maybe years. 

Aziraphale's hands are on him, fingers exploring under clothing, along skin. He feels them pause on the small outcropping of scales at the base of his spine and he tenses. Will the angel be disgusted and pull away? Is it too much of a reminder of what he truly is? Crowley relaxes when Aziraphale not only doesn't pull away but lets his hand linger there and presses his hard cock against his silk-clad thigh. He wonders if he should do away with his own pyjamas. Would that be too presumptuous? 

Crowley nuzzles Aziraphale's neck. Inhaling deeply, he breathes in his scent. He smells of musk and honey with a hint of dusty old books. An aroma both comfortable and familiar but he's never had it this close to him. He needs more. With a thought, his clothes are gone. This is better. Flesh against flesh. Aziraphale, so warm against him; radiating heat, want and need. Crowley sucks deeply along his neck, marking him. His Angel. 

Their lips meet again and for a while, he loses himself in wet lubricious sensations. When they break away, Crowley looks him in the eyes and asks, "How far do you want to take this, angel?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with, dear," Aziraphale says breathlessly. 

It occurs to him (not for the first time) that he doesn't know how much, if any, experience Aziraphale has with this type of earthly indulgence. It could be a lot, it could be none at all or it could be something in-between. He doesn't have a clue. They've never discussed things of a sexual nature. He's witnessed mortals flirting with his angel over the years but he's never really wanted to know if it'd ever gone any further than that and he's too afraid to ask now. He doesn't want to ruin the mood, and he's not sure he wants to know, not yet. That can be a conversation for another day.

As for his own experience, let's just say that seduction has never been his flavour of temptation. Crowley's participation in the sensual arts focused around his own hand on his cock and fantasies of a certain angel in his head. As to how far he's comfortable taking this -- well, he's done a bit of research over the years and all he wants is to make Aziraphale happy. "Whatever you want, angel."

Aziraphale kisses along his jaw, nips at his earlobe and whispers, "I want you inside me." 

Yeah, okay he can do that. He moves to the end of the bed and nudges Aziraphale's legs apart. Crowley spreads kisses along the insides of his soft plump thighs as he miracles up a bit of oil and slowly slides a finger inside his tight heat. Slowly working another finger inside, he sucks another love bite on his inner thigh before moving his mouth to his cock. The angel wriggles beneath him as he takes him in his mouth. 

"Crowley..." Aziraphale sounds breathless and filled with need. He pulls his mouth away, giving the length one long slow lick before he slides his fingers out and kisses a path up Aziraphale's torso. 

The angel is soft and pliant beneath him. His eyes are bright and focused on his own. Crowley resists the urge to look away. He pushes Aziraphale's legs up and languidly begins to slide his cock inside him. He never wants this to end. Aziraphale grips him tightly, nails digging into his skin as he murmurs words of encouragement and praise. He's close. Crowley picks up his pace and wraps his hand around Aziraphale's cock, driving them both over the edge. Time stops just for a moment as his climax rips through him. An inadvertent side effect. 

Crowley collapses face buried in the Aziraphale's neck, as he takes a moment to get himself together. He disengages, rolls over to his side, and curls up next to Aziraphale. A snap of his fingers and both them and the sheets are clean and dry. 

There's a satisfied smile on his angel's face. "That was quite nice."

Crowley raises his eyebrow. "Nice?" Warning tone in his voice.

Aziraphale giggles. He hasn't seen him this happy and relaxed in -- never. "Delightful? Amazing? Stupendous?" 

"I'll accept amazing." His hand finds Aziraphale's and together they tumble into sleep, hands entwined.

**Author's Note:**

> title from: Just Like Heaven by The Cure  
Many thanks to my beta who will remain anonymous for the moment.


End file.
